Cipher
by Carys Langley
Summary: /AU, OT3 Tezuka/Fuji/Atobe, Bus Gamer Tribute/ A dangerous game entwines the fates of a stoic insomniac, a helplessly bewitching boy, and an egotistical brat. “So...what kind of flowers do you want on your grave, oniisan?”
1. Chapter 01

**Cipher**

(AU, OT3 Tezuka/Fuji/Atobe, Bus Gamer Tribute) A dangerous game entwines the fates of a stoic insomniac, a helplessly bewitching boy, and an egotistical brat. "So...what kind of flowers do you want on your grave?"

**Disclaimers: **I don't own Prince of Tennis/Tennis no Oujisama or Bus Gamer. Each of these wickedly awesome animes are properties of Konomi Takeshi and Minekura Kazuya respectively.

**A/N: **I found the Bus Gamer anime the other day and was pissed as you wouldn't believe when I found out that it only had a measly 3 EPISODES! -sobs- It has so much potential! So I couldn't pass up the chance to expand on the concept in the wonderful, bishounen world of PoT with a few supporting characters borrowed from Bus Gamer, namely Yanagida, and Detective Ichinomiya, who comes in later. Not to mention that the voice actors of Atobe and Kikumaru were also seiyuus in Bus Gamer...xD Hope you enjoy!

EDIT NOTE: This was written waay back in March, but the first chapter was dragged out a long time and was only recently finished. I was proud of it though, but updates will probably be very sparse for this story, since it's a complicated storyline.

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**01**

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Because he was just that kind of person, a lot of people bragged to themselves and others that they knew Fuji Syusuke. His charming smile and bright blue eyes chastised everyone into submission. At just sixteen, even Fuji himself thought that the ability was a little far fetched. Girls lined up just to ogle, and they all claimed they knew him, but of course, preciously few—if anyone at all _knew_.

The smile, faint and tender, hid everything, so that was why. The eyes, so brilliant with a million shades of azure, gave away nothing.

Fuji Syusuke smiled his charming smile and disengaged the two girls hanging on his arms. "Sorry Hikaru-chan, Mio-san, I forgot, I have an orthodontist appointment today. Maybe we can get together next time?"

They were not happy, and of course they had all the rights to be; this trip had been planned over two months ago. Supposedly, though the theory was never proven right or wrong, Mio and Hikaru believed that Fuji had impeccable fashion sense and thus he was recruited to help them pick out prom dresses at the mall (even though the prom was still six months away).

"But...Fuji-_kun_--"

Fuji sighed, though his smile stayed. "I promise I'll go next week Tuesday. I'll skip chess club and go."

"Really?"

"Really." He nodded. "Even if Ryuzaki-sensei throws a fit."

They were happy again. Both of them kissed him on the cheek to bid him good-bye and skipped off to the train station. Usually Fuji walked with them, but today he wanted air. Some time alone. So he sent them off with another gracious smile when their backs were turned.

He had perfect teeth.

-

The envelope was was wrapped in a black plastic bag, something you didn't see everyday. It was generously stuffed with all sorts of papers, most of which Fuji ignored until he came to a small business card.

Thursday, June 6, 4:00 pm

Noyogami Hotel and Suites

Suite 1006

2012 Kayuga Ct.

Tokyo, Japan

He stared at it for a very long time, twiddling the card absently between his fingers as he curled up on his bed. There were holes in the wall, and cicadas filled in the cracks. When Fuji found time between work and school, he made an effort to patch up what he could, but without proper care, without Yumiko, the apartment was practically destined for rotting.

Fuji sat up and shook the wisps of dust from his hair, it was getting to be four. Maybe he would have time to drop by the hospital before it was time to go.

-

_Please note that we cannot guarantee, nor do we hold responsibility for the game's participants._

At the age of twenty, when fools were fools, Tezuka Kunimitsu was a rare find—one of a kind in the world that he unfortunately knew all too well. Right now, it was a Thursday afternoon, and the bar was near empty, leaving him with plenty of dirty champagne glasses to clean from the night before, and plenty of time to think.

The envelope had arrived a few weeks before, and it had been buried under piles of unpaid bills until a few days ago when Inui had unearthed the envelope sealed in plastic.

"_You should probably throw this away. It looks dangerous."_

As Tezuka wiped the last glass clean with a thick cloth, he wondered if he should have listened. Listening to Inui, while sometimes every bit as dangerous, had its own benefits. Perhaps if he had had the willingness to listen, he wouldn't have had to nurse this headache of massive proportions, or perhaps it was just the smoke.

Now that Tezuka really thought about it, he was very inept when it came to tending bar, the smoke made his eyes blurry, and when the bouncers were out cold (which was most times) it fell to him to keep the peace...not that he couldn't, but it was certainly not a hobby.

Drying the final glass and putting it away with a decisive clink, Tezuka let out a small sigh and rubbed his eyes. He had hidden the wad of paper in his wallet and now, since there was no one around, he got out the scrap of paper, and the card. The scrap of paper only contained the small print, since he had been in a hurry earlier.

_'Please note that we cannot guarantee, nor do we hold responsibility for the game's participants._' was highlighted in bright yellow.

Bright yellow told Tezuka to be very careful. Bright yellow adorned passages of his textbooks that he had trouble memorizing.

"Hey kid, I want another drink. Make it hard." A growl cut through his thoughts and Tezuka quickly cleared the counter of the card and paper. He raised his eyes to meet a face of a regular drunkard carrying maybe twenty pounds too many. Tezuka wondered if he should throw this man out; he looked the type to get rowdy.

But the man plunked down a few coins and Tezuka gave him a hard look before getting an empty glass from the cabinet.

When the man had his drink, he ambled away from the counter, not quite steady, and Tezuka watched him.

Today was Thursday, June 6. A glance at his watch told Tezuka it was barely fifteen past two. Good, he still had time to figure out exactly what, or rather what not to do.

-

Atobe Keigo was twenty-three, fresh out of college, undeniably wealthy, devastatingly good-looking, and in all kinds of trouble. Of course no one knew he was. Not his father, who was currently stationed in France with three mistresses, if not more. Not his mother, who was somewhere; Atobe hadn't the idea where exactly, and he had no inclination to change that. Most of all, certainly not the women and the men that shared his bed, they all thought he was a spoiled brat that got a kick out of paying all manners of people to spend the night.

He didn't mind that they thought that, although it did get a little irritating at times. Most times, however, Atobe worked the misconceptions to his advantage.

Right now, it was the afternoon, and he woke, with...what was her name? Aki? Maki?--draped over him like a blanket. Atobe stayed very still and concentrated on the way her warm breath tickled his ear until she stirred.

He said, "Morning, did I wake you?"

She yawned and rolled off of him, wearing only his t-shirt. The fact that she wore so little didn't faze her, this woman was a lot like him. She shook her head and smiled at him, beautiful, even though her makeup was smudged. "No, Keigo."

Atobe said nothing after that, he didn't want to say her name, for fear that he would say the wrong name. When he sat up a few minutes later and rubbed sleep out of his eyes, he remembered the beers in the trash and groaned. He was wealthy, yes, and he had a housekeeper, but the twit only came on weekends.

"Ne, Keigo."

"Yes?"

"Are you...doing anything later?"

He looked over at her again, now that her face wasn't caked in well-applied makeup, Atobe almost felt panicky. If his memory served him correctly, she had looked ten years younger last night. Atobe hauled himself up and wondered if the woman was married, if she was that old, if she was...

"What's today?" He asked vaguely, Atobe lit a cigarette to keep his hands busy.

"Today...?" She drowsed slowly, "It's Thursday, I think. You shouldn't smoke so much. It ruins your skin, Keigo."

He shrugged one shoulder, and then he rolled over to the edge of the bed and rummaged in a drawer for a few moments before he found what he was looking for.

Thursday, June 6, 4:00 pm

Noyogami Hotel and Suites

Suite 1006

2012 Kayuga Ave.

Tokyo, Japan

Atobe didn't hesitate to admit that he was relieved. He replaced the card and sat up. "I have to go somewhere later. I'd appreciate it if you didn't sound like my mother."

She opened her mouth and then closed it. Instead, she began to get dressed, Atobe closed his eyes and lay back. When he opened them again, she was dressed and he noticed a gold band on her finger.

"Is that a wedding ring?"

"It used to be." She picked up her purse, swept back her hair, and then turned to face him, "I'll be going now."

"Aa. Good bye, Aki." Shot in the dark.

"My name is Yuki." As expected, _Yuki_ did not sound pleased. His door slammed, and Atobe heard something shatter. Maybe a vase.

Atobe just smirked and lit another cigarette.

-

Tezuka had never been to Noyogami Hotel and Suites. Which was just as well, going there evoked all things useless. He'd never even been out of the country, what use did he have for some overpriced hotel suite?

For a moment, he stood outside of the bar momentarily at a loss. He had ended his shift thirty minutes early with a promise that he would return just as early for his night shift. To his knowledge, Kaguya Avenue was two blocks away and on foot, thirty minutes gave him just enough time not to hurry.

Still, as he crossed the street, invisible in the sea of other pedestrians, Inui's warning echoed threateningly in his head.

"_You should probably throw this away. It looks dangerous."_

Tezuka shrugged off the thought. It was too late, and on the other hand, it was easy for Inui to say, he was the one with all the money.

-

For Fuji, getting to Noyogami Hotel and Suites was a dangerous excursion. It once only required a short ride by car, but nowadays, car rides were no longer an available luxury. The way he saw it, getting to the hotel required half a block by foot, two bus rides, and it didn't hurt to throw in an extra half an hour for the unexpected.

He wore clean jeans for the occasion, and a dress shirt that he had found, and after several tries, learned how to iron. Of course he could have shown up in his school uniform, but that risked telling everyone just how young he was. In this world, it didn't pay to be young.

He dozed on the second bus, until a rough hand clasped his shoulder and shook him roughly. Fuji opened one eye and yawned.

The meaty face of the bus driver was inches away, Fuji smelled the familiar scent of cigarette smoke. "Noyogami Hotel is down the street from here." The man's voice was raspy from smoke.

Fuji got up, and even if he didn't want to, smiled at the driver, "Okay, thank you."

-

Parking cost a thousand yen, not that money was a problem, but still...Atobe handed the bill over and felt an unfamiliar tugging at his chest. Usually, money flowed through his fingers like water, he'd never had a problem.

Somehow, he had a bad feeling about this, as he edged his car of two years into a spot, it was a nicely customized European job, way back in the days when his father still remembered that he had a son. So if only for that, Atobe kept it.

It was not a busy afternoon, the lobby was deserted, and even though Atobe knew he dressed like a delinquent that was up to no good, he still was of the rare, refined variety. After sweet-talking to the bubbly thing behind the counter, he was able to gather that Suite 1006 was on the seventh floor.

He graced her with a delicate squeeze of her hand before walking towards the elevators, leaving her with a very red face.

-

Tezuka made an effort to be early to whatever appointment he had the misfortune to make, and now as he stood in the empty sitting room of Suite 1006, he wondered if it really was a misfortune. He took a seat, gingerly on an empty armchair. On the coffee table not too far away were three mugs. Tezuka took one and sipped, and then stopped. Bitter black coffee. He was about to reach for a packet of cream when the door opened.

Tezuka drew back instinctively and raised his eyes to meet a gaze that was much too blue. He put the packet down.

The eyes belonged to be a boy, a boy who seemed to Tezuka just barely old enough to be out and about on his own without proper supervision. The boy seemed altogether undaunted by his stare and just shrugged one shoulder and offered him a vague smile before taking a seat in another armchair across the table.

All of the sudden, Tezuka wondered if he should feel threatened by the appearance of this strange boy. He turned back to his cup of coffee and tore a careful slit in the cream packet and dumped everything in. The white mound dissolved...slowly. Staring at it made him forget about the boy.

But when the mound was gone, Tezuka took to staring at his hands. He looked up only once to note that the boy was holding his own mug, but as far as Tezuka could tell, he hadn't taken a sip, which was good, coffee was a bad habit.

Which only left only one steaming cup of coffee untouched on the table. Tezuka looked at it, and had a feeling that the boy was too. Again, uneasiness took over and he was grateful the coffee burned.

Then the door opened, and Tezuka waited a moment before he raised his eyes. This time, his eyes met a hard metallic gaze, worlds apart from the boy's gentle azure. The newcomer wore lots of expensive looking rings. He also smoked, by the smell of it, excessively.

The newcomer took the couch, and the final cup.

Tezuka took another careful sip of his coffee.

-

In another suite not too far away, sat two men in drab gray suits and an old television that projected a black and white image of what was going on in the fated Suite 1006.

"Forgive me for saying, but it looked like you just picked random hoodlums off the street and dragged them here." Sakaki Tarou considered himself a grounded realist.

The other man, Yanagida only offered an eloquent shrug, "Maybe they are. But of the hundreds of applications we received, these three--" he waved at the screen, "--were the only ones who were smart enough to leave the reason they needed a billion dollars blank. Atobe Keigo, Tezuka Kunimitsu, Fuji Syusuke." He stood, "These are three desperate young people who need a tremendous amount of money. I just thought that was a splendid common feature."

Sakaki said nothing.

"Come on now, we don't want to keep them waiting. It's already five past."

-

Suddenly, Atobe knew with dire certainty where the bad feeling had come from. It came from the other two people in the room, he did not know their names, and well, to be accurate, he knew absolutely nothing about them, but he still had the bad feeling. The guy on his right was just a kid! Worse, a kid with a pretty face. The guy on his left was a prude. Worse, a prude with a pretty face.

Atobe sighed and took a long, slow drag of his cigarette and blew gray wisps towards the ceiling.

"I think this is a non-smoking suite, oniisan."

Atobe snapped his head instinctively to the left, only to find an expressionless face. Then he turned to the right, where the kid was smiling at him. Kids weren't supposed to _smile_ like that.

His first instinct was to protest, after all, he had only lit this joint just outside to calm his nerves some. Having been told by a kid with a freaky smile that he couldn't smoke in a non-smoking suite did nothing for his nerves. But that freaky smile...Atobe only rolled his eyes and stamped out the cigarette as requested, it was going to leave a burn on the carpet, but that was none of his business.

"Thank you, oniisan."

It was kids like him, that Atobe was thankful that his parents only attempted reproduction once. He took a sip of bitter coffee. It tasted distinctly Italian.

"They're late."

Tezuka spoke for the first time, and he didn't like how the other two looked alarmed, as if his presence hadn't been duly noted.

The boy said, "What time is it?"

Tezuka looked at his watch, "It's 4:10, just about." Which led him to wonder if the whole thing was a fluke, like the way Inui was positive it was.

The boy only nodded, "Oh."

Silence reigned once more, Tezuka noted that the man was growing restless on the couch, he looked like he wanted—needed another smoke. Tezuka sincerely hoped he wouldn't, and he secretly applauded the boy for his earlier reproach. Still, this didn't make the situation any less awkward.

All three of them started when the door opened, and two men entered, wearing almost identical suits. Fuji curled up on his armchair and hugged his knees tightly to himself and watched them. Almost identical because he realized he was afraid of one and not the other.

They both carried very large briefcases like the ones he saw on television.

"Pardon us for our lateness, gentlemen." Said the man wearing glasses, he had a voice like silky water, "But there were some technical difficulties. Now that we're all here, I think it's in our best interests that we get started."


	2. Chapter 02

**Cipher**

(AU, OT3 Tezuka/Fuji/Atobe, Bus Gamer Tribute) A dangerous game entwines the fates of a stoic insomniac, a helplessly bewitching boy, and an egotistical brat. "So...what kind of flowers do you want on your grave?"

**A/N: **Remember when I said updates are going to be sparse? Well, they are. I just got lucky on this one. Thanks a bunch to all my lovely reviewers, I seriously think that AtobeTezukaFuji has so much potential, why doesn't anyone (hardly) ever write them?? I guess I'll give myself points for being brave. This chapter is set up...again. But I promise in the third chapter the adventure/action genre will kick in. Please enjoy!

**Bunny Poll: **New plot bunnies alert! Please visit my profile and vote, I'd love to know what people think about my dear bunnies.

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**02**

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It wasn't the first time that Atobe laid eyes on a billion dollars in cash all in one setting, but it had been a while and the fact the cash was just sitting there, nestled between the linings of red velvet, made his eyes gleam. He even forgot about his craving for a smoke.

A glance to his left, told him that the prude was definitely paying attention. A glance to the right, so was the kid, with eyes now as big as blue saucers.

Pathetic.

And just as suddenly, the briefcases were shut. The two pricks in suits looked very pleased with themselves and Atobe got the undeniable urge to sock both of them hard in the gut, that urge outweighed wanting to punch the prude in the face just to see some other form of facial expression, or lack thereof.

"I think, before we proceed any further, introductions are in order. I'm Yanagida, your sponsor, and this here, is my associate Sakaki." Yanagida was the man with the glasses. "It's a pleasure to make your acquaintances, Atobe Keigo, Tezuka Kunimitsu, Fuji Syusuke. Am I correct?"

Tezuka was surprised, and then not so much. He risked a quick look around, Fuji Syusuke was the boy, Atobe Keigo was the excessive smoker.

Yanagida continued after he was satisfied with everyone's responses, or the lack thereof. "In the briefcases as you have just witnessed, is a billion dollars. That money can very easily be yours, with a few conditions. You just have to play our game, and with each win; your prize money is generously compounded."

"What kind of game?" The boy, Fuji, wanted to know. Because he was just a boy, it seemed to Tezuka fitting that he would be so bold.

Yanagida smiled at him, "It's a simple game, really, Fuji-kun." From the folds of his suit, his one hand emerged holding a disk. "The three of you will be protecting this. It holds vital information about my company, as a team, of course. Your objective changes with every game, if you're the 'away' team, you steal the other team's disk, and if you're the 'home' team, it is your responsibility to protect the disk. It's really a simple game without any rules. The only one that is strictly enforced really is that you show up to where the games are taking place."

Yes, Atobe had to agree that one billion dollars for a petty little street fighting game was alluring. In fact, it was too good to be true. But the fact that he had to team up with two strangers, a boy and a robot respectively, it wasn't so appealing.

He stood and slammed a hand down on the table.

"Look, a billion dollars is fine and all, but asking any of us to form a team together when we don't even know each other, _complete_ strangers that will only slow me down. Ore-sama refuses."

Tezuka looked at him, a man with such an unpredictable temperament, honestly, he could say the same for Atobe. And the high and mighty attitude that the he was exhibiting did nothing for Tezuka's opinion of him.

"The same could be said for you, you know."

"_Excuse_ you?" And who gave Tezuka the permission to speak like that, Atobe had no idea, it certainly wasn't him.

"I think oniisan is in a bad mood because he can't smoke in a nonsmoking suite." Fuji said offhandedly.

Those two, were they conspiring against him?

Yanagida and Sakaki looked perfectly content to let this cat and mouse game continue. After all, they were the ones with all the cards, the billion dollars. Fuji still couldn't believe that in those suitcases, was a billion dollars.

A billion dollars. The men made it seem so easy.

Tezuka too, stood up. "In all seriousness, your obnoxiousness aside, I happen to agree with you. It's impossible. And besides..." He glanced over towards Fuji, even if he assumed that Atobe could somewhat defend himself--

"You have a kid on your side." Fuji finished for him, smiling. "Which must be very inconvenient for Tezuka-san. I apologize."

Atobe was feeling slightly put out, just slightly. Why was he just 'oniisan' while Tezuka got the respect that Atobe deserved? "Are you mocking me?"

Tezuka looked at him, "No. Nor am I implying anything. I'm just saying that it's impossible for us to cooperate like this. Since the idea was yours in the first place, I'm hoping you agree with me."

"You get a kick out of sounding like some damn professor, don't you?"

Tezuka could have told him that Atobe seemed to enjoy sounding like an arrogant prick himself. But try as he might, it wasn't in him to voice that thought. Tezuka bit his tongue hard and stayed silent.

Yanagida and Sakaki exchanged glances. As amusing as this was, time was pressing; though it probably seemed otherwise to the three of them. They joined Tezuka and Atobe in standing and the pair's focus turned toward them. Yanagida smiled. "I'm glad that all three of you are getting acquainted. But as much as Sakaki and I would like to stay to hear a final answer, we do have an upcoming engagement. So I'll leave cards and this envelope, and I'd like an answer in three days. Let us know via email."

They picked up their suitcases, and all three of them watched in reverent silence. Even Fuji uncurled a little in his armchair out of respect.

Sakaki said, before closing the door, "...I do hope you'll make the correct decision, gentlemen. It'd be a shame otherwise."

-

Somehow, the three of them found themselves in a sushi bar near Fuji's school. It was Fuji's suggestion, since he held a part-time job here. They had ridden there in Atobe's car, and Atobe had grumbled about this and then some the whole way. For someone who seemed to be so well off, he wasn't gracious.

But then again, Fuji thought as Kawamura Sushi came into view, one who seemed to be so well off didn't need a billion dollars.

Atobe parked, "My car better still be in one piece when we're done."

"Don't worry, this is a very safe neighborhood, oniisan." Fuji smiled, "And with luck, Taka-san will be there and we don't have to pay at all. Come on."

-

Tezuka had to admit, it was a nice clean sushi shop, but couldn't help but wonder if he would make it back to the bar in time. If he didn't, there was hell to pay. Even people like Tezuka could only take so much hell at once.

"Ah, Fujiko-chan, are you with your friends today?"

The man who spoke seemed to be in his late twenties, with a nice smile, one not tinged by anything. He wore a white apron, and seemed to be washing dishes. Tezuka's first thought of him was that he was naive behind that smile.

"I think it's better if I don't call them friends, Taka-san." Fuji answered easily, "I don't know what they'll do to me."

The smile slipped, just a little. "Fujiko-chan, they're not...giving you trouble, are they?"

"They're not, so don't worry." Fuji took a seat at a table and Tezuka followed. Only Atobe seemed reluctant, and even after a minute, the man joined them. But as Atobe reached for his pack of cigarettes and lighter, Fuji cleared his throat.

"I'm almost positive that Taka-san runs a nonsmoking shop, oniisan."

Atobe sighed a very irritated sigh, "If you give me that oniisan crap one more time, ore-sama will bash your head in." He lit his cigarette anyway and took a long, long drag from it. Hell if Tezuka was giving him the look, and Fuji was smiling.

"Well, would you rather be ojiisan, then? You almost look like one."

"You really want to die, don't you, kid?" Atobe raised a fist and was greeted with an even cheekier grin.

"Oniisan, if you hurt me, I don't think Taka-san will be very happy about that. I'm sure you two are already starting off on the wrong foot since you refuse to put out your cigarette. Smoking is bad for you, don't you know?"

Atobe despised lectures, especially lectures given by a damn kid. But he put his fist down and took a long drag from his joint and offered a thin wisp of smoke to the ceiling. "Ore-sama doesn't need you to tell me that."

"Stop bickering, the two of you." Tezuka spoke at last, his tone flat. "This is doing nothing to help our cause."

Fuji said, "And what is our cause, Tezuka-san?"

This made Tezuka pause. What was their cause? They were just strangers bound together by strange circumstances and...lots of money. Two suitcases full.

One billion dollars, in fact.

To Tezuka, that was plenty of money, and even then, he was a hard man to be bribed.

"Sorry to keep you waiting." Taka sat down a tea tray in front of them.

Tezuka took a sip of his tea and found that he liked it. It was distinctly bitter. "...A billion dollars." He said blandly, "That's our cause."

-

One billion dollars.

Once upon a time, Atobe Keigo had viewed such a sum as child's play. And in many respects, it still was. But right now, that paltry sum...sounded a lot like paradise. He hated himself for it. He took a break from smoking to taste his tea.

Commoner's tea, not even one bit of subtle sweetness. He went back to his cigarette.

Since Tezuka was looking at him like he wanted an answer of some sort, Atobe gave him one. "Sorry to break to you, Tezuka, but isn't it rather naïve to ride your hopes on a billion dollars? There are worse bribes."

"But you're here too."

"What?" Atobe blinked.

Tezuka sipped more tea, "The fact that you're here...you harbor the same hopes that I do. However foolish and nonsensical the hope may be, you are here."

"So oniisan is just as stupid." Fuji grinned. "Just like us."

Atobe growled, "Can you even hold your own in a fist fight? A skinny brat like you is just going to hold me back."

The boy just grinned some more, "Oniisan should just worry about oniisan, I think I'll be okay."

"You two are bickering again." Tezuka pointed out.

Atobe sighed. Fuji smiled.

Tezuka too, sighed, although his sigh was not an irritated one, rather, it was resigned. "I think we've cleared a couple of things. One, we don't trust each other."

_Which was perfectly normal._

"Two, it seems we all need money."

This time, he was greeted with silence. Tezuka was relieved. Taka-san took the opportunity to scurry up to the table and place three identical plates of sushi in front of them.

Fuji sampled one, it was nothing like Yumiko's cooking, but Taka-san was certainly getting there.

"So we'll have no choice but to accept the game." Atobe said, "Is that what you're saying?"

Tezuka nodded.

"And we just win."

Fuji looked up from the piece of sushi he was examining, "I have a request." He spoke quietly, lacing his fingers together.

"What, want to back out?" Atobe smirked.

"No, I just want this partnership to stay the way it is. No prying about personal lives. It makes it easier for me." Fuji said and then added, almost as an afterthought, "You should try this sushi, Taka-san is a really great chef."

"Sure, I don't want to know why a kid needs a billion bucks anyway." But he did as he was told, and Atobe had to admit, it was good sushi, for a no name sushi restaurant like this. "How old are you, anyway, twelve?"

"Sixteen."

Sixteen, it seemed a long time ago, seven years, four years. Atobe looked to Tezuka and found that quiet gaze looking back at him.

Sixteen.

"Is there a problem, oniisan, Tezuka-san?"

"No." Tezuka found his voice first, "Not at all." But then he looked at his watch and saw that he was very, very much late for work. On top of all that, he was practically on the other side of town. He stood, food untouched, tea cup empty. "I have to go, I'm late for work."

"Where do you work?" Atobe asked.

Tezuka paused, Fuji took pity on him. "We said, didn't we, oniisan? No prying."

"We have to get together at some point." Atobe snapped, "I'm sure as hell not giving you two my number."

Tezuka sighed, "...Club Fioni. It's near the hotel, just two blocks over. I work nights." Out of habit, he got out his wallet and got out a wrinkled bill before walking towards the door.

-

Fuji and Atobe ate. Fuji was tired of goading Atobe; and it seemed that Atobe was just as tired. There was no conversation, until Taka-san came to take their clean plates away.

The yellow envelope that Yanagida gave them still sat untouched in the middle of the table. Fuji said, "I think oniisan should take the envelope."

"Why? You'll lose it?"

"No, I'm a kid. You shouldn't trust me with it." Then Fuji too, stood up.

Atobe said, "I suppose you need a ride back?"

Fuji looked surprised, but only for a moment, "A ride would be nice. But I think I'll be fine on my own. Thank you, oniisan."

-

_Contestant 1: Atobe Keigo_

_Contestant 2: Tezuka Kunimitsu_

_Contestant 3: Fuji Syusuke._

_Team Name: AAA_

...Please wait, your message is being sent.

_-_

Why did he have to do everything again?

Atobe turned off the blinking screen just as a pair of arms snaked over his chest. Breathing in deeply, he smelled alcohol.

"What are you doing?"

Atobe turned easily and kissed him, a boy with the most intoxicating golden eyes, tasted more sharp wine on the other's teasing tongue, and did not answer. Tonight, was a night for forgetting.

-

"Aniki. Will everything be all right now?" The question echoed plaintively in a room that was otherwise silent.

Yuuta was twelve. And by all means, Fuji thought his little brother was old enough to sleep in his own bedroom, but a lot of things happened and it seemed that the two of them sharing a bedroom and a bed had become a permanent arrangement once more.

Fuji did not mind though, his bed was too big and it seemed more fitting when two people slept in it. He turned his focus from the ceiling to the boy beside him.

"Everything is always okay." He smiled, "As long as you trust aniki and do what I say. Now go to sleep."

"But--"

"Sleep. I'll be right here when you wake up." And when his little brother's breathing deepened, Fuji turned back towards the ceiling.

-

Because Inui Sadaharu had grown up with test tubes and microscopes for friends, he was rather devoid of a social life. But even without the necessary influences, he had learned, just like Tezuka to run on very little sleep. Though when Tezuka sneaked in at 3 am sharp, his friend was there with crossed arms and a disapproving frown.

"I wish you wouldn't stay out so late, Tezuka, it's not safe at night, even if...you are who you are. Maybe especially so."

They had an unspoken pact not to talk about it. And when they did (which was very rarely) they never referred to it by name. Tezuka shrugged, "I was late and kept late."

"Why were you late?" As far as Inui knew, lateness was a sin in Tezuka's book; if anything, he managed to be an hour early for everything.

"I was taking care of some things." Tezuka replied belatedly. "You didn't tamper with the water system again, did you? I'm going to shower." Inui always enjoyed tinkering household appliances in the name of science. Just a week ago, Tezuka had turned on the shower head only to be sprayed by green acid (only it wasn't green acid). Inui's excuse was that he was trying to make a home-friendly chemical shower. His research deemed that he was in desperate need of one.

Inui shook his head, "No, the shower's fine. But I wouldn't touch the kitchen sink if I were you."


	3. Chapter 03

**Cipher**

AU, OT3 Tezuka/Fuji/Atobe, Bus Gamer Tribute A dangerous game entwines the fates of a stoic insomniac, a helplessly bewitching boy, and an egotistical brat. "So...what kind of flowers do you want on your grave?"

**A/N: **A huge, huge thank you for the reviews, I got so many...and honestly it made me giddy because OMGWTF! My OT3 is not a dead pairing! It makes me so, so happy! -swoons- So in my happiness I've pumped out the longest chapter thus far, although it's still all setup. x.x This story is so complicated that it requires 3 chapters of setup. I promise the next one really gets into the actual story. Please enjoy!

* * *

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**03**

-

* * *

A whole week passed. And then a week easily segued into two weeks without him knowing.

Life went back to normal for Tezuka, classes in the morning, bar tending in the afternoons and nights. Inui messed with the kitchen sink one time too many and it exploded, they had to call a plumber, and dishes had to be done in the bathtub. Tezuka was thankful, however, that his friend left the shower well alone.

Life was monotonous. Unending. Unyielding. He developed carpal tunnel from writing too much. And then, it healed, thanks to one of Inui's very rare practical remedies.

It was times like this, as Tezuka stood scrubbing dirty wineglasses, he wondered if the scene at the hotel, and the two strangers that he'd met. If it was a dream.

It certainly seemed like one. In all honesty, Tezuka hoped it was.

But then...

"I thought you only worked nights, Tezuka." The voice that said his name was both familiar and strange.

His grip on the glass, already slippery with soap, slipped. But there was no crash, because he caught the cup seconds before it hit the counter. Tezuka didn't dare glance up. If he glanced up, he was sure he'd see a ghost. He willed the tremor in his mind to stop before he spoke. "...We said, didn't we? No prying. I'm allowed to lie."

"Yeah, but you hardly look the type." There was rustling, and one of the stools squeaked. His visitor had sat down.

"What?"

"...I mean, you look honest, like a good boy."

"Thank you." Tezuka felt his lips twitch in spite of himself, "You look like a delinquent." It was only fair to return the favor. He finished wiping the glass and turned briefly to set it in the cupboard. "Now, what can I do for you, Atobe?" Saying the other's name made the whole situation...real. Tezuka looked up. Yes, Atobe Keigo, haughty smirk and all was sitting right in front of him, smoking, as usual.

Normally, Atobe would have been offended like nothing else being called a delinquent. But he cut to the chase and offered Tezuka a wispy cloud of smoke as he spoke. "The first game's tonight."

"Aa." Was all Tezuka managed, trying to breathe as little as possible.

So it was real.

"This...isn't a fluke, is it?" Atobe asked.

Tezuka reached for the next stained glass. "Haven't we all come a little too far to be wondering that?"

"Probably." His companion sighed, "Can I get a drink?"

Tezuka's first instinct was to refuse. But then, Atobe was not Atobe here, Atobe was a guest, not a likable guest by any means, but still a guest nonetheless. He put the glass that he was currently scrubbing aside and cleaned his hands of suds before he turned off the faucet. "...What would you like?"

"Something strong. I have a feeling I'll need it for tonight."

Tezuka reached for a clean glass, and then stopped, "Did you...drive here?"

"No, I walked thirteen miles in twenty minutes, of course Ore-sama drove!"

Tezuka half glared at him, and after a moment with his back to the other man, he turned back and set a glass filled with pale yellow liquid with a fine layer of thin ice on top in front of Atobe. "Here."

Atobe instinctively wrinkled his nose, "What _is_ that?"

"It's lemonade with minute amounts of gin. It'll leave you sober enough to drive."

Atobe only glared at him and took a noisy sip from the glass, "Cheapskate."

-

It seemed that hours passed without either of them speaking. The silence that inevitably between them was a strained one, filled only by the sound of running water as Tezuka resumed his task of washing dishes.

And on occasion, when Atobe finished his lemonade with gin, the clink of the glass joined running water when Tezuka set down a fresh drink.

After a couple of clinks, Tezuka turned off the water and dried his hands once more, "I was wondering. Can you fight if you're drunk?"

"Now, aren't you the one prying?" Atobe smirked as he took a sip of his glass, he was only a little bit tipsy, lemonade and gin wasn't the best way to go if someone wanted to get wasted. His head swam. Just a little. "But just because. Yes, I can."

"That's a relief." Tezuka said, mildly sarcastic.

Atobe was annoyed. "Speak for yourself."

"I can take care of myself." Tezuka returned calmly. "If I have to do something dangerous, the least I can do is stay sober."

"I don't know what that means." Atobe said, "With a face like that, forgive me if I doubt you."

"You should go into the business of mocking people." Tezuka shot back quietly, "I'd think you'd be decent at it."

"Either that was a bad joke or a compliment. Ore-sama is not sure which." Actually, Atobe was tending towards the former. Tezuka looked to him one of those people that would rather bite through their tongue and die rather than give a compliment.

Maybe it was Atobe's imagination running wild—or perhaps it was the liquor, but he thought he saw Tezuka smirk. "...Take it which ever way you wish. What time are we supposed to be at the game site?"

"Midnight, we have plenty of time."

Midnight. Tezuka glanced at his watch, it was a battered excuse for a watch and it was in need of a new strap. But with all sorts of misfortunes taking up his time, he hadn't taken it to be fixed. It was four o' clock. He had outstayed his shift, but if the game began at midnight...

"Hey, Tezuka, isn't it about time for you to get going?"

The cheerful voice shook him out of his thoughts and he turned to find Oishi Syuchiro, who usually relieved him for his shifts. Tezuka wondered why Oishi worked at this bar, his desposition seemed altogether too bright for such a career. He nodded. "I was just about to go...actually."

But the night shift began at eleven. The game, whatever it was, began at midnight. Tezuka Kunimitsu had always been a prompt, upstanding person, and he prided himself for that, but now...it seemed like he was playing in an entirely different dimension.

"Oishi, could I ask you for a favor?" It was something he preferred to do in private, but it was hard to do anything private with Atobe Keigo staring at him. The man knew very well how to make a presence. Though it was one small detail that Tezuka was determined to ignore for the time being.

"Sure, what?"

"I know you don't like working nights, but would you mind standing in for me just for tonight's shift? An emergency just came up."

Oishi looked puzzled because it was not in his nature to look anything more sinister. "Sure, I guess, if it's just tonight."

"Oh, I doubt if it's just going to be tonight." Atobe supplied absently. "Tezuka's getting to be a busy man."

Tezuka shot him a glare, "Be quiet."

Oishi looked between them, "...Tezuka, are you...in some kind of trouble?"

"No." Tezuka was suddenly in a hurry to leave, "Please just stand in for me tonight and don't mind him." Another death glare went in Atobe's direction. "He doesn't know what he's talking about. Come on, Atobe."

Outside, Tezuka held out his hand, "Keys." He had the uncanny ability to make any request sound like an order.

"It's my damn car."

"Yes, but you're not exactly sober, and we have to be in one piece for tonight."

"Bastard."

-

It had been one, two long weeks.

Fuji's life had...returned to normal. Somehow, after the strange encounter at the hotel and with Tezuka-san and oniisan...somehow, he had expected a change. Just a small one, perhaps. But nothing happened. He went to school, Yuuta cried at night, he worked at Taka-san's sushi shop. And he hadn't heard from either of them.

It was Tuesday, he had taken Hikaru and Mio prom dress shopping, he had already delayed the trip two weeks, and now, he was standing in a dress shop with them. It wasn't that Fuji was ashamed of being the only guy in the said dress shop; but he had to wonder, why the two girls...both eighteen, thought that he had an uncanny fashion sense.

"Fuji-kun, how does this look?"

Fuji shook himself, he glanced up to find Hikaru in front of him in a lavender dress that looked...rather painful to put on. So he went with his first instinct, "...Is it...comfortable, Hikaru-chan?"

She looked properly ashamed of herself, "...It's a little stiff."

"Well, it's important to find something comfortable." He admonished her gently, "Why don't you see if there's another size? I think I saw another dress like this over there." Fuji gestured in a vague direction where a bunch of racks were.

Hikaru hurried off in the said direction, long lavender silks trailing behind, and Fuji leaned back against the wall again. A moment later, Mio emerged from behind the heavy curtains in a flourish of peach. She twirled around once for effect and then asked, "How do I look, Fuji-kun?"

Mio, unlike Hikaru, looked good and comfortable in whatever she put on. Perhaps that was the reason why she was dating Wakato Hiroshi, the most popular guy in school and Hikaru was single. Fuji shrugged, "Good. The color goes very well with your skin."

"Aww, you're so sweet, Fuji-kun. Thank you. Do you like this one or the red one better?"

Fuji grinned at her, "I think you look beautiful either way. Shouldn't you ask Wakato-senpai's opinion? He's the one taking you to prom."

He was about to say more when his phone rang. It had to ring, the vibration feature had broke a long time ago. But just because he was Fuji Syusuke, having an unfashionable phone was acceptable. Taka-san's number. Fuji gave Mio an apologetic smile and flipped his phone open.

"Hello?"

"Fujiko-chan?"

"Hi, Taka-san. Is everything all right?" Fuji asked, mostly out of habit since Taka-san never called unless it was an absolute emergency. He had the sense to give Fuji space, and Fuji was grateful for it.

"...Uhh...I"m fine. I'm just...kind of worried about you." Hushed tones came from the other end, "You know those two that you brought to the shop a couple of weeks ago? They're here now and they said they needed to see you. Where are you?"

"Dress shopping with Hikaru and Mio." Fuji reported, trying to keep his voice low while his head spun. So Tezuka and Atobe existed. They were real people...and they were at Taka-san's sushi shop waiting for him. Which made sense, since that was the only place associated with Fuji that they knew of.

So it wasn't a dream. It wasn't a fluke.

"But don't worry about them. They're not there because I'm in trouble. I'll be there soon, Taka-san. Make sure oniisan doesn't smoke himself to death first."

"...Huh?"

"Never mind." With that, Fuji hung up.

"Fuji-kun?"

Both Mio and Hikaru were staring at him intently, in their regular clothes. Fuji quickly pocketed his phone and smiled, "...Sorry about that, something came up. I need to help Taka-san with an emergency. Do you think you could drive me to the sushi shop?"

-

Fuji realized too late that bringing Hikaru and Mio to Kawamura Sushi was a bad idea. A very bad idea. Especially when there were two very good looking older guys present. When they came through the door, Hikaru was already swooning, "That guy with the glasses is so dreamy..."

Fuji could have sworn he saw Tezuka twitch.

Atobe, on the other hand, looked supremely amused, "...You have girlfriends." He was smirking, "Ore-sama is impressed."

Somehow, he'd almost expected a reaction like that. Fuji rolled his eyes. "They're not my girlfriends, oniisan."

"They're not?" Maybe it was Fuji's imagination, but did the man seem disappointed? "Well, if they're not, I don't feel so bad telling them to leave. But they're going to have to. We have business to take care of. Say goodbye."

"I'm not a kid, oniisan." Fuji said, but he turned to the girls with a practiced apologetic smile plastered on his face, "Sorry Mio-san, Hikaru-chan, oniisan's cranky today. I promise I"ll introduce you properly next time."

"What about the other guy?" Hikaru asked hopefully as Fuji began to push them towards the door.

"...He's Tezuka, he's always cranky." Fuji said quickly before they could come up with another reason to stay, When there were cute guys involved, they were especially tenacious, "Bye. I'll see you two in school. Thanks for driving me here."

-

"You're a regular heartbreaker, aren't you, Fuji?"

"For the last time, they're not my girlfriends. oniisan." Fuji rolled his eyes, "So. Why'd you call me?"

Tezuka cut in, and it was a wise move, given how much Atobe wanted to throttle the kid at the moment. "The first game's tonight. At midnight. We need all the members present."

"It's barely five." Fuji had to smile, "Are you saying you miss me, Tezuka-san?"

Suddenly, Tezuka wished he was back the bar making drinks and washing dishes. It was much more simple. "No, but..."

Atobe did something unexpected, he rescued Tezuka. But of course he expected that favor to be returned, later. "I was the one that suggested we meet. I thought it'd be nice of me to treat the two of you to a last meal before we go, so that's the reason I gathered everyone."

"Oh." Fuji did not look convinced, "Why so charitable, oniisan?"

"Is that a bad thing?" Atobe shot back.

"It's just a little strange that you'd be so charitable all of the sudden." Fuji shrugged with a smile. "Just a little suspicious."

Tezuka cut in, "It's all right, Fuji, we may not get to see Atobe kind often."

"I'm not even going to ask you what that means." Atobe sighed, "Shut up and let's get going."

"Wait, oniisan."

"What?"

Fuji paused, somehow, he had the feeling that it definitely wasn't the smartest thing to ask, but it was worth a try. And besides, it might be useful if he could find out Atobe's soft spot, "...I know this isn't exactly – polite, but oniisan, may I bring a friend?"

"Depends, is it your real girlfriend?"

Fuji sighed, "You're not going to let that go, are you? No, it's not." He paused and sucked in a deep breath, "He's my little brother."

-

Today was not Atobe's day. Tezuka had insisted on driving (yet again) even though Atobe knew perfectly well that he wasn't at all drunk. Lemonade and gin hardly had any alcohol. At all. To add to that, he wondered why he had been so charitable in the first place...and he was expected to deal with a twelve-year-old brat.

"I'm not good with kids." Atobe grumbled, as Tezuka pulled his car in front of a series of buildings. A school. Atobe hadn't been here in years.

Fuji unbuckled his seatbelt and smiled a smile that made Atobe want to throw up in his mouth. "I'm not asking you to be good with kids, oniisan. I'm just asking not to smoke for the next two hours. And try not to swear if you can help it."

Atobe sighed, "The brat gets to eat, and then he gets to go whenever it is that kids go. I'm not a babysitter. Just go get him. I don't have all day."

"All right, oniisan."

Atobe glared daggers at Fuji's back. And then he looked at Tezuka, "...If I told you to drive away, would you?"

"No." Tezuka said, "I don't like our current situation either, but we can't just leave them to wander around, nor can we participate in the game with only the two of us."

"You're underestimating me."

Tezuka almost rolled his eyes, "Even if I wasn't, they'd disqualify us."

"...Good point."

Atobe sighed, he reached for his pack of cigarettes and lit one. He took a long, long breath from it and blew smoke towards the backseat, away from Tezuka. "I hate kids." He confessed after a long moment without any reason at all.

Tezuka said,"I haven't been around enough to form an honest opinion."

Silence reigned again. Smoking bettered Atobe's mood with each drag he took, but still, the silence was stifling. He glanced towards Tezuka, who was glaring at the steering wheel. "...Do you intentionally try to kill every conversation that you take part in?" He asked rather lamely.

"Not intentionally, it usually turns out that way."

Atobe blew some more smoke, "There you go again. You're a bigger asshole than I thought, Tezuka."

"...Thank you?"

There was a light tap on the window, Fuji's freaky smile was pressed against the glass, there was another boy hiding behind him. "What did I tell you about smoking, oniisan?"

-

Atobe Keigo learned a few things. He learned that Fuji Yuuta was twelve years old, and spoiled rotten. He also learned that taking a kid to a high class French restaurant was not in his best interest. People kept staring; and even though it didn't Atobe half as much as it had in the old days, it still bugged him.

He was also thankful that his parents stayed together long enough to reproduce only once. It was a thought that was reoccurring more and more often.

"Aniki, are you sure it's okay for me to eat the snails? They look weird..."

"Yes, eat the snails. They're very good and aniki can't afford them, so eat as many as you can."

Dinner was...as pleasant could be with Fuji fawning over his brat of a brother. Even though Tezuka continuously frowned about it, Atobe ordered wine. His reason being, "...You can't have a dinner of this caliber without wine."

Tezuka said nothing. He took in another spoonful of soup and sighed. Glancing towards the two brothers for a long long moment, he suddenly turned back to Atobe again. "It's a wonder to me how you can afford dinner like this when you're contending for a billion dollars."

"You're prying, Tezuka."

Tezuka shrugged, "It's a legitimate question. You can't be suspicious and expect me not to ask questions."

Atobe smirked, "I find that just a little insulting." He drank more wine, "But if you must know, I'll give you a simple reason. I'm greedy."

"Is it true?"

Atobe only shrugged.


	4. Chapter 04

**Cipher**

(AU, OT3 Tezuka/Fuji/Atobe, Bus Gamer Tribute) A dangerous game entwines the fates of a stoic insomniac, a helplessly bewitching boy, and an egotistical brat. "So...what kind of flowers do you want on your grave?"

**A/N: **As always, thanks for the lovely reviews! Now onto the rant...

Now I'm really wondering if I took too many liberties with both PoT and Bus Gamer, it's not like the original plot anymore and it's spiraled into some unknown dimension. Still, I'm glad that folks are really enjoying it. (I'm learning how to fiddle, on a random note, so excuse the country-ish mood.) I'm somewhat dissatisfied with this chapter because of how the fight scenes turned out. I mean, it's words on paper so it's kind of hard to see it as moving action in my head. And this is my first time writing anything action oriented, so hopefully didn't butcher it completely.

If anyone has any suggestions, let me know! Thanks!

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**04**

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* * *

Yuuta was on the verge of throwing a tantrum. Atobe was on the verge of running far, far away. Atobe watched Tezuka's face carefully, but the man just had to keep a stone face and Atobe, try as he might, could not figure out what Tezuka was on the verge of. If the other man had any sense of propriety, he'd agree with Atobe.

"But I don't want to stay with Yanagisawa! I can't sleep at his house because I can't _sleep_ at his house!"

"Does he snore?" Fuji was smiling, Atobe was appalled.

Yuuta threw up his hands, looking very much like the world had just crashed down on him, "Worse. He kicks me."

"But I thought he slept on the bed and you slept on the floor...?" Fuji's mouth was twitching.

"Well, yeah, but he falls off. And then he kicks me on the floor. He steals my covers too."

Fuji sighed, "Yuuta, I can't leave you at home by yourself, you know that. It's either staying with Yanagisawa-kun or you're sleeping at the hospital." He didn't use the threat very often; but he knew that having a full blown argument with an already agitated Yuuta wasn't going to get him anywhere.

A look a fear immediately flitted across the boy's already pale face, and Yuuta promptly deflated, "Can't you call Atsushi and see if I can go there?" He said finally, after a long pause.

Fuji sighed once more, he got out his battered excuse for a phone again and held it out to his little brother. "Call him and see."

"Okay."

The trio watched as Yuuta ran off only to return a moment later with a grin, but the grin conspired against the solemness in his voice as he reported, "Atsushi says okay as long as you come and pick me up at eleven o' clock tomorrow. He has Judo lessons."

-

"I'm never having kids." Atobe restated firmly as he watch the two brothers hop off the car. Why did he have to drive them here again? Oh, right, because he wasn't driving. The moment they were off the car, Atobe lit a cigarette. If Tezuka insisted on commandeering his car all night, the least he could do was let Atobe smoke in peace – for once.

Tezuka being Tezuka, said, "...I wasn't aware that having children was an actual option for you. You astound me, Atobe."

Atobe opened his mouth and then closed it. "Fuck you." And for the first time in a long time, he meant the insult completely.

The passenger door behind him opened, as if his insult had served some sort of higher purpose, and for the first time, Atobe realized that the outside air was cold, or perhaps the boy breathing down his neck gave him chills.

"Saa, that's not very nice, oniisan."

Atobe rolled his eyes and inhaled smoke. "Like I care. Isn't midnight past your bedtime?"

"Oniisan really likes to pry, doesn't he?"

Tezuka ignored both of them and guided the car down the driveway, after touching a careful hand to his glasses. He heaved his own sigh, "...Where to?" He directed the question to the still fuming Atobe.

"That old supermarket lot that still needs to be torn down except the idiots that run the city _still_ haven't found a chance to do so. Three streets over from where you work." Atobe blew smoke, "We're fighting Team Phoenix for the first round and we're the away team." Team, he wished there were some other word that didn't sound quite so companionable, he hated the word.

"The old supermarket lot on Miyagi Avenue?"

"Yeah."

And then there was silence. It was almost a reverent silence, Fuji decided from his place in the backseat, like everyone was waiting. The only reason that the silence failed to be reverent was that Atobe was breathing too loud. But he didn't voice the thought.

Fuji turned his attention to the luminous green numbers on the clock.

11:51

Nine minutes. Nine minutes and then he was going to plummet into a world he never knew existed. Although he was already no ordinary sixteen-year-old boy, who didn't worry about girls and chic cars. Fuji tucked his knees under his chin and leaned against the cool windowpane. He closed hiseyes.

"Are the two of you armed?"

Atobe again.

Fuji kept his eyes closed, he heard Tezuka reply, "No, I doubt that I'll need to be."

"Confidence much?" Even without looking at him, Fuji knew that Atobe was smirking.

"No," And Tezuka's reply was as bland as ever, "I'm cautious enough not to rely on weapons, they might malfunction if you're not careful."

Atobe laughed, "You're some piece of work. Ore-sama thought you'd say that." There was a pause, "In that case, Fuji, oniisan was kind and brought you a present. Here, take good care of it. It's a very grownup toy."

Fuji felt something hard and metal land in his lap. He was uncomprehending for a long moment, and then, "...Is this...?"

He had fully expected Atobe to make a wise crack, but none came, "Stay alive so I don't have to waste my strength to drag you back out." And then to Tezuka, "Can I have my keys now?"

There was another clink following the clink, and Atobe got out of the car.

Fuji realized that a gun felt heavier than he thought it would, because of what it implied, maybe. He opened the door to his side too and stepped out into the night air. It was cold and he instinctively shivered.

Tezuka saw him, "Are you cold?"

Fuji bit his lip, otherwise his teeth would betray him with their chattering. "Not really." He replied belatedly.

He felt a bundle of something warm land in his arms, pressing the cold metal of the gun further in his skin.

"Take it. I don't need it."

Tezuka's jacket. Fuji stared at it for a moment longer before he shrugged it on and offered the man a smile.

"Thank you, Tezuka-san."

-

The lot was abandoned, and it reeked of rust and human waste. An altogether acrid smell, Atobe decided as he wrinkled his nose. He looked around again; this place was abandoned. This whole thing was a scam. He was stupid to even buy into it.

"It's midnight." Fuji commented idly, "I wonder where they are." The boy sounded too cheery for his own good.

Tezuka said, "...They are already here."

"How do you know?" Atobe looked at him.

"I can hear them breathing."

"Well, at least we weren't duped, you can think of it that way." Atobe smirked. "Hone--"

"Atobe, left." Tezuka cut him off, his voice suddenly sharp.

At the last possible second, Atobe obeyed, veering his his body suddenly to the left, narrowly avoiding a dark, rather bulky shadow that Fuji had to admit he hadn't noticed until Tezuka had said anything. The only thing about the shadow that was not inconspicuous was the glinting blade of a knife that he held...

Atobe caught him with a swift jab to the ribs and the shadow immediately doubled over. But then he was up a moment later and lunged. Just barely managed to knock Atobe off-balance.

"Shit!"

There was that, and then a crack. A loud crack.

Fuji didn't realize that he had his eyes squeezed shut until he opened them. The shadow was on the ground again, this time writhing in obvious pain, and Atobe was standing above his conquest, with his foot poised to crush the guy's throat. Atobe's arm was bleeding, blood dripped steadily from his fingertips.

Fuji felt nauseated.

"Come here." Atobe beckoned to him with his good hand.

Fuji took a few hesitant steps forward, trying not to look at the mangled body on the ground, or Atobe's arm. Both the blood and the lifeless corpse made his head swim.

"Pat him down, look for the disk, come on, we don't have all day."

Gingerly, Fuji knelt and began to search the body. He lifted the man's shirt up with trembling fingers and after taking a deep breath, tried his pockets, all four of them. He looked up at Atobe and shook his head.

"It's not here."

"I thought so. If he had it, he wouldn't have just attacked like that." Atobe amused, "Give me the knife, we might need it later."

The knife had fallen a few feet away, and the blade was bloody. Fuji felt his stomach lurch, but he handed it over and Atobe wiped the blade clean. "Fuji, are you okay?"

"I"m fine." Nauseated, but fine. "Is your arm...?"

"My arm is fine." Atobe offered him a smirk, which was oddly reassuring, "Ore-sama's been through worse..." He looked around, "Where is Tezuka?"

Fuji followed suit, Tezuka was nowhere in sight. "I don't know. Oniisan should go look for him." And then he forced himself to look at the lifeless corpse and wondered if he was dead, "...I'll stay here to...make sure nothing happens."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah."

Atobe turned, "I'll be back. Call if you need me."

-

"_Kunimitsu, all you have to remember is everything that I've taught you. That way you'll always come out standing." _

As far as he could tell, Atobe was more than fine on his own, Tezuka had watched him before he ducked away. And it was safe to leave Fuji with him...provided that the boy didn't provoke Atobe too much. But then again, the boy had a gun. That, if anything, made the field even.

"_You have to be very patient about this. Think of it like picking a lock, very delicate. This type of thing can't be forced."_

Or perhaps his paranoia had finally climbed to a new high without him noticing. Tezuka could have sworn he had heard someone wheeze somewhere back around...maybe he had just imagined it? Now that he really was away from all the noise, the possibility seemed entirely sensible.

There was a step.

Tezuka turned swiftly, and caught a fat wrist, twisted it, until he heard something shatter and a yelp of pain. He let the wrist go, and the intruder stumbled backwards, uttering a string of guttural curses.

He waited.

After a moment, his adversary seemed to gather his wits again, not completely, but certainly enough to sway on his feet and launch a clumsy punch with his good hand as he charged at Tezuka without reserve.

Tezuka smelled the familiar fumes of alcohol and winced. He could have easily caught that hand and crush the wrist too, but a man with two broken wrists in one night was too pathetic even for a man like Tezuka to behold. So instead, he walked measured steps and ducked the punch, and slammed his own fist into the man's stomach.

_Thump_. There was blood, splatters of it got on his shirt.

Ignoring that for the time being, Tezuka quickly knelt and checked all of the man's pockets. The disk was tucked in his jacket. It was almost hard for Tezuka to believe that for this...whatever it was, people risked all. He pocketed it.

Another step.

He turned, and like before, caught a wrist, this one was surprisingly slender, he twisted--

"Ow, ow! What the fuck?"

Startled, Tezuka dropped the wrist. Looking twice, he realized that it was indeed Atobe. His mouth twitched, "I didn't know it was you. Don't do that to me."

"Yeah well, you didn't have to go and crush my wrist." Atobe spat, but then he saw the body on the ground and grew silent. "...Did you get the disk?"

"Yes."

"That's good." Atobe said awkwardly.

"What...happened to your arm?"

Atobe smirked, "The bastard had the nerve to stab me. It's all right." He gestured, "Let's get back to Fuji."

"You left him?" Tezuka's tone was accusing.

"He's sixteen, he has a gun. He should be fine. He worried about you. Might I remind you that you were the one that ran off in the first place." Atobe was quick to come to his own defense. "Besides, I didn't come here to babysit."

Tezuka glared at him, "I didn't ask you to follow me around either. You're impossible, let's just go."

Atobe glared right back, except Tezuka's back was turned and he hadn't seemed to notice. "Prick."

-

The blood in Fuji's veins turned to ice, when he felt the cool blade press against his throat. There was no pain yet, but he kept his eyes squeezed shut. Waiting, Fuji decided, it was the worst part. And that was saying a lot because it seemed that he was always waiting.

"Pretty brats like you shouldn't be out so late at night." A husky voice breathed right next to his ear. "Something bad might happen, you know."

Fuji stayed still. No need to aggravate his captor any more than he absolutely had to...but he couldn't resist a small taunt, "Ojiisan, you might get arrested if you're not careful about accosting pretty brats like me."

"Oh, yeah? It seems that you don't know what kind of situation you're in." The blade pressed harder against his neck, and there was just a slight prickle of pain. "If I were you, I'd probably cry for help."

"Wouldn't matter much if he did. We got what we came for, so if we left him, it wouldn't matter."

Fuji started. His eyes betrayed him, for a moment, he was hopeful. Atobe, Tezuka.

But in their gazes, Fuji detected nothing at all. Tezuka withdrew a thin case from his pocket, "I suppose you want this in exchange for the boy."

Boy. As if he wasn't even a person to begin with. Fuji's face flushed darkly despite himself. But he held still. Tezuka wasn't that kind of person, Tezuka wouldn't just leave him, if it was Atobe with the disk, that that was an entirely different story but...Tezuka wouldn't.

"You catch on quick. Give it here."

"No. I'm assuming that you want this—" Tezuka held up the case, "--more than I want the boy. So it's only fair that you listen to my conditions. First, you'll put the knife down. You may keep your hold on him, but put the knife down."

"I can't trust you!" Fuji's captor spat near his ear, and he winced.

"No, you can't. Knife down. Or I leave."

Fuji kept his eyes squeezed shut. His throat was suddenly constricted, as the man threw a heavy arm around his neck. He couldn't breathe. But at least he heard the clink of the knife dropping. He didn't know what to feel. Relief? More panic?

But at least, Tezuka seemed to know what he was doing. That, at least, was promising.

"Give me the disk."

Tezuka held it out. "Walk five steps." He said calmly.

"Walk, kid."

Fuji walked. One. Two. Thr--

A nauseating pain shot through the back of his head without warning, and Fuji collapsed.

-

When Fuji came to, his head was still pounding, and his vision was blurry. He stared up into a hazy outline of Atobe's face. "...Oniisan." And he tried to move his neck and winced. "Did we win?"

"Of course we won." Atobe said.

Fuji smiled, "That's good. Where am I?"

"My place."

"Oh." Atobe's place. It looked nothing like Fuji's own cicada infested apartment. There were nice classical paintings on the walls, and the living room smelled warmly of vanilla and cinnamon. And it was clean, the couch was very comfortable. Fuji closed his eyes again. "Where is Tezuka-san?"

"He's washing up in the shower." Atobe told him, "Don't move around so much, okay? You might start bleeding again and Tezuka will yell at me."

That wasn't surprising. What was, however, was the fact that Atobe consented to being yelled at by someone like Tezuka. If he wasn't in so much pain, he would have laughed. Fuji shifted, slightly, "...What...happened?"

"I knocked him out from the back, but I guess the impact hit you too...I didn't mean to hit him that hard." Atobe gestured casually with his good hand. Looking at his good hand eventually led Fuji to examine Atobe's bad arm. It was wrapped up completely with clean linen. And then he started, as if remembering something, Fuji was still wearing Tezuka's coat.

He got out the gun.

"I don't want this, oniisan. Please take it back."

"Why?" Atobe looked at him, "You're helpless without it." Fuji was also pretty much helpless with the gun in his possession. But it seemed a bit cruel to break the bad news to the kid all at once.

"I don't want to know that I have the power to shoot and...kill people just like this." Fuji said, "I don't."

But Atobe merely took the gun, and laid it on the coffee table. He stood up, "Get some sleep. You must be tired."


End file.
